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WHO: Altair Kallig & You!
WHERE: Risa!
WHAT: Vacation!
WHEN: During the Risa Event
WARNINGS: None! Will update if this changes.

[A - Markets]

He had to visit eventually- searching for supplies that would be useful once they returned to Agra 10, but also searching for some items not related to survival alone. While wandering, he kept his senses reaching far, feeling the peaceful emotions of all around him while he wandered- while also keeping an eye out for anyone familiar, be it only slightly so, or very much so.

The Sith was determined to at least enjoy part of this vacation while they had it.

[B - Gardens]

Chiss were not made to handle heat- even mixed breeds like himself. Altair didn't know what his family had been before his parents, and his grandparents, but he knew they could not all be fully Chiss- logistically, it was impossible. Aloysius had been a pureblood, Altair was sure, given how the Empire had been even more anti-alien back in those days- but then, it had been nearly two-thousand years since Aloysius had died so if there was pure Sith blood in his veins, it was so diluted it might as well not be there.

Still, the Chiss in him was indeed not good with heat- and as such, he found himself down in the glowing gardens, where it was cooler.

He could be found wandering about with a sketchbook and pen- drawing the different plants he saw. Having grown quite fond of the medium of paper and pen.

Every now and then, he'd also find a bug or two, and stop to fawn over it- even picking some up to inspect the creatures more closely. One could think him insane, given that he would speak to any bug he wasn't familiar with in rather the way one would speak to something utterly adorable.

"Why hello there, aren't you a beauty..." and "Oh, look at you... Don't think I've seen one like you before... Care to hold still while I draw you?"

Even on Agra 10, he'd been a bug lover. Here, with the relative safety, he felt okay to let that show just a bit.

[C - Meditation]

Risa, being what it was, was perfect for it.

Anywhere it was nice to sit down- places with pristine nature, a somewhat less traveled path with benches, down on the beach- he could be found in deep meditation, cross-legged, and breathing.

Speaking, too, when he thought himself alone enough- reciting the Sith Code as he always did, when he felt the need to meditate, clear his head, calm himself.

"Peace is a lie, there is only passion...
Through passion, I gain strength...
Through strength, power-
Through power, victory-
Through victory, my chains are broken-
The Force shall free me..."

[D - Wildcard]

(Come up with a scenario of your own! Altair can be found here and there on Risa, just exploring, shopping, relaxing...)

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Being plunged into eternal night... Oh, The Dark would probably love the Sith, wouldn't it. It's a thought that's equally amusing as it is perturbing, what with The Dark, or The Forever Blind being quite literal the opposite and very openly enemies of The Eye. Even going as far as using a closed eye as a symbol.

And yet Altair is almost someone Jon might consider- A friend?

He nods slowly at Altair's words, taking the chance to drink some of his tea. Once he set his cup back down, he lets out a soft exhale.

"It sounds nice. Having that. Being able to just feel everything around you. It's certainly a useful ability. Even though I still can't exactly see you fitting in with a dark spectrum."

"Well, it was mostly a joke, at any rate. The Force is a mystery, and that mystery led me to learn how to bind spirits to me to draw on their power. I released them all, long ago, except for one who insisted that he remain with me."

He picked his own cup of tea up, taking a sip, and setting the cup back down.

"They said that I was too dark to be their savior, so all I could do was let them return to their tombs. And they told me I was doomed to their same fate. I don't wish to become a spirit forever doomed to wreak havoc upon all who should trespass upon my final resting place."

Turning more toward the light had been a difficult journey. He'd stumbled and fallen and been angry and hateful. But the person he was now was not the same person who'd once stood face to face with those Sith ghosts. And he was glad for it.

"... Just don't tell Cal about this, please. A Sith gets a reputation for being good, he loses all respect. And I don't want to have to go around being haughty to ensure that I push people away the appropriate amount."

That was another joke. Altair did have a sense of humor, after all, however strange it was.

"Okay." Jon says, his voice thoughtful. There isn't really a lot he can say to that, though one thing does seem a little curious to him.

"So how do ghosts of all things fit into that?"

Life, death, emotions. Those are all real things. Things he can see gripping into one another and working together to certain degrees. But ghosts. Ghosts are... Well. It's easy to say that despite all his experiences with the supernatural, Jon remains a little hard pressed to fully acknowledge ghosts and hauntings at times. The Fears may be entities of dread, but so far any ghostly statement has been possible to be traced back to the involvement of certain powers and their avatars.

"Well, if the Force runs through each living person, and Sith are too stubborn to become one with it again once they die," He said, giving a vague gesture, "Sith don't necessarily wish to accept death, or they're attached to an item, or a place."

Bound to a single place forever, with only themselves for company. It was no wonder to him that these restless souls lost their sanity, much like the living would.

"I met my ancestor that way. He'd been dead nearly two-thousand years, but was woken from his resting place... Can't say I enjoyed nearly being choked to death though."

Aloysius just hadn't been aware who he was at the time. Altair hadn't enjoyed it, but he'd had no choice but to forgive the ancient ghost.

"Though had I been dead and bound to a place for so long, I suppose I'd get up on the wrong side of the grave, too."

Well now. Being bound to something does ring a few bells. Uncomfortable ones. But those weren't exactly ghosts either. Souls, maybe. The essence of a person or... Whatever, really. They were bound and left to suffer only to be... Used. Every once in a while. It's not a thought Jon likes to dwell on much as well.

"Becoming one with the Force... So that's what happens to people in your world when they die."

Ah, yes. There are some similar beliefs on Earth, at least. But that's religion, isn't it? Of course he has to inquire about the purely scientific angle.

"And there actually exists proof for that?"

"It is. And yes. Not everyone might agree with me on that admittedly, but when you've seen what I've seen, experienced what I've experienced... You don't doubt after something like that."

Explaining how it felt to be a Force-user was a bit difficult, really. And Altair couldn't blame people who weren't connected to it for doubting that they would return to it once they died. Still, it was present and true, and he intended to become one with it some day himself, when he died. Though hopefully that was some ways into the future.

"It's not like every person in my world is Force-sensitive, after all. It flows through every living thing, but not every living thing can use it the way someone like me can, experience it in the way I and others like me do- it's easy to doubt when you can't feel something, I'd imagine."

He didn't know, as the Force had been a constant companion, even when he was young and really wished it wasn't there. But he could imagine doubt came easy to those who weren't constantly tuned into it all.

"It's all rather complicated, I suppose. But it is real."

This all sounds so awfully familiar that Jon can't quite help but drop his head and let out a short, soft cackle. It's a weak noise at best, but it does carry a certain edge to it. one of bitter bemusement.

"Oh. It's certainly easier not to know." Jon half mutters, not quite looking back up at Altair but rather casting his eyes elsewhere in the little shop, keeping a grim little smile on his face "So easy to dismiss and doubt and verbally tear down that which you can't see until the day it breaks through a wall of your office and before you know it you are face to face with a living hive and dozens and dozens of worms burrow into your flesh."

He falls silent after that, trying not to dwell too hard on the reminder and yet still well aware of the fact that his burned hand is gripping his other lower arm again, clutching over one of the larger patches of circular scars left on it.

Then he exhales, takes a deep breath, and raises his head again with a centering sigh. Though his expression remains a bit of a tired frown paired with the failed attempt at a smile.

"Believe me when I tell you that I know very well what it's like to doubt and not know and what it's like to have the safety of that oblivion shattered by a truth I would have been happier never learning. And now that's my life and I doubt I will ever be able to go back."

Altair listened to him speak, letting him say what he needed to say. It was easy enough to come to the conclusion that he'd been through a lot. More than what was said, and probably more than what Altair could understand, given the differences between his world and Jon's.

He could empathize with him though. He could see his tiredness, and know what it was like to feel worn out too, even if the things they'd gone through weren't the same.

"Sounds as though you've been through a lot," He said, without any pity, though with understanding.

"... Maybe you won't be able to, no. I know I've experienced things that make it impossible for me to be able to go back to how things were before. Still, so long as we're all here, should you need to talk, you know you can talk to me. Our situations aren't the same, of course, and I'm sure there are things I won't be able to completely understand..."

Just as there were things about being Sith or being an alien that Jon wouldn't understand. Jon hadn't lived through Altair's experiences, just as Altair hadn't lived through Jon's.

"But, like I said before, we won't make it through without making friends."

Jon may not see him as a friend yet. But Altair was well on his way to seeing Jon as one of his friends. So should Jon need to talk or need help, he really only needed to ask and Altair would do his best to assist.

"Thank you, Altair." Jon replies without looking up. But he does wrap his hands around his tea mug.

"I just... I wish I were as strong as you are. You seem so much more capable of... Well." Everything, pretty much. Where Jon feels lost and with no idea what to do pretty much most of the time, the Chiss appears sovereign and in control despite everything he went through. An actual leader. Unafraid and with those by his side always in mind. With someone like Altair leading their take on the Unknowing... Hell. Jon is certain Tim wouldn't have died. Daisy wouldn't have ended up in the coffin and unlike him, Altair wouldn't have ended up in a coma, driving Martin into the Lonely. Heck, Altair wouldn't have let himself be fooled by Elias! Or leave Leitner to be bludgeoned to death merely because he needed a cigarette.

Tim has been right. It's all his goddamn fault for ruining their lives.

But he probably should save dwelling on his own shortcomings later. What with the Sith apparently being perfectly capable of emotions.

Jon refrains to look up from his tea before admitting "I think I would like having a friend for once."

"I wish I could say that I were as strong as I seem," Altair said, wondering what Jon saw when he looked at him, what he heard when he spoke- because it seemed different than how Altair saw himself. Truth was that Altair had spent most of his life terrified. But fear, anger, hatred were all emotions a Sith could feed on. And once upon a time, Altair had done just that.

It took a lot to push him that far these days, but it wasn't too long ago that his cowardice had caused the deaths of hundreds of innocents. Even more recently, his failure to shut the Alliance off from the rest of the galaxy had caused the death of millions. Arcann had been the one giving the order to bombard those worlds, but if Altair had been smarter, stronger, then maybe those people would still be alive.

And before that, his failure to act quicker had caused the death of Imperials, of a planet.

Had he been more than he was, he could have prevented that, too.

Of course, these were not burdens he would place on his new friend.

"All I can say is that I try to do better today than I did yesterday. Being stubborn helps."

It helped a lot, actually.

When Jon said he'd like having a friend for once though, he smiled, "Then you're in luck. I already consider you a friend."

Not making friends so much as being friends.

Edited 2020-04-05 12:15 (UTC)

Altair may argue his own strength, but the fact remains that he has been rather successful in his life. And he sure seems to be comparably young.

Oh, Jon can be stubborn, alright. But as of now that hasn't really worked well in his favor.

So when Altair mentions to already considering them friends, the Archivist has to blink twice before raising his eyes to the Sith again "Oh- R-really?"

And then he risks a simple smile.

"Thank you."

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